a boy in a man's coat sings to his lover
mild melodies of stories once lived by another
he lies in balboa with a clock in his pocket
and a vice 'or his crown he's afraid to be caught in
for the routine of his selfish life
I was there online trying to get some work done. Trying desperately to get caught up after the last few days. The days had been filled with loud retching and heaving as my stomach violently gave me back all my gluttony. The virus slapped me and owned me.
This is a prose/story based on the lyric of 'And She Was' by Talking Heads. The original lyric is at the end.
She/Herself.
Page 9 of 63
Mr. Jackson
Dear Topher,
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